


We Could Be Heroes (Just For One Day)

by lady_ragnell



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Brief Violence, Gen, Multi, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/pseuds/lady_ragnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Night Knight has been retired for a year now, ever since his girlfriend left him for a crime lord, but a rookie on the police force has one last job for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be Heroes (Just For One Day)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [37Cats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/37Cats/gifts).



> I loved all your prompts, **37Cats** , so I hope you like this fic! I had a glorious time writing it. Happy Yuletide!
> 
> Title from David Bowie's "Heroes."

Sid makes a squeaky noise. Considering Sid makes squeaky noises for situations including but not limited to videos of baby sloths, the release of new titles to watch on Netflix, and celebrity weddings, Galavant feels he's entitled to ignore it. When the noise is repeated, more insistently, he groans and looks toward the window where Sid is standing. Probably there's a puppy down below, possibly in a funny hat. “What is it, Sid?”

“Someone's got the signal up!”

Galavant frowns. “No they haven't.”

“You aren't the one looking out the window, yes they do!” Sid looks at him with eyes shining. “You've got to go answer the call. _We've_ got to go answer the call. The citizens of Valencia need protection!”

“Hold on, now, the citizens of Valencia have done quite well for themselves in the past year. I'm retired, remember?” He waves the beer in his hand in illustration. “I'm not exactly _compos mentis_ right now, anyway.”

Sid turns away from the window at last to look at him with that terrible wide-eyed heartbroken expression that is the reason they feed a whole host of stray cats on the fire escape and occasionally let them in on cold nights despite the disasters this leads to. “Everyone respected and was very heartbroken by your retirement. If they're putting up the signal, it means something is really going on. Aren't you even curious? I'll go myself if you won't.”

Sid has very good intentions and reasonable combat training and his only superpower is to shrink (though Galavant sometimes entertains thoughts that he has some sort of likeability force field). There's a reason he was always the sidekick. “No, you won't. There aren't any sirens or anything, clearly it isn't urgent.”

“Someone's out there waiting for you.” Sid opens the curtains to an angle where Galavant can see the hologram shimmering over the police station's roof, the same sword that led him to many an adventure. “Are you going to let a little thing like retirement stop you?”

Galavant should worry someday about how easy it is for Sid to manipulate him.

*

The suit doesn't exactly fit, after a year without hunting down criminals, but it's the middle of the night. No one is going to notice if his jacket is pinned together instead of buttoned. Well, no one but Sid, who gave him a look when he got out of the bedroom and then sighed and shook his head before shrinking to climb into the pocket Galavant had designed specifically for carrying him about on chases (it's reinforced and there's a dollhouse chair with a miniature seat belt inside. He doesn't want Sid to get tossed about).

It's not as though he hasn't flown a bit, in the year since his retirement, but he hasn't done it seriously, and it's both nice and more of a workout than he's expecting, so he means to land on the roof of the police station looking in the pink of health and a bit windblown and ends up with his hands on his knees gasping instead.

“Well, this inspires great faith in the hero of our city,” says a woman he doesn't know, voice sharp, and he attempts to straighten up with dignity. She appears to be a police officer, though not one of the ones he's familiar with, and she's glaring him down even though she's quite a lot shorter than he is. “You're telling me that you're the Night Knight.”

“I haven't told you anything yet, actually, Detective ...”

She continues frowning at him. “Did your jacket shrink in the wash?” She sniffs. “Have you been _drinking and flying_?”

“This is what I get called out of retirement for? Getting scolded by a rookie?”

She crosses her arms. “I'm no rookie. I just transferred from a precinct elsewhere in the city, and I've been put on a case I think you could help with.”

“I don't do that anymore.” The pocket Sid is in wriggles disapprovingly.

“Sure, you had one embarrassment, your girlfriend defected to the side of evil, whatever. The city needs your help! Some jewels have gone missing recently, all displayed in places that have the same sort of security as the museum, and I believe someone with superpowers was involved. The obvious target they're working up to is—”

“The Jewel of Valencia, yes, someone tries to steal it at least once a year, all you have to do is hide it away in some safe somewhere until whoever it is gives up.”

“And not catch them? No, I plan to make an arrest. I had hoped you would help.”

Galavant rolls his eyes and backs toward the edge of the roof. Sid is kicking him hard enough that he's going to have a bit of a bruise later, but Galavant has no intention of getting involved with routine police work right now. “Well, well done you on optimism. If you'll excuse me, there's doubtless some television that's more interesting than this conversation.”

“Right. Of course.” She sighs and turns off the hologram. It's rather a pity. He's missed it. “I'd thought having a year to adjust to things might make you willing to come back, but apparently you care about your pride more than this city.”

“Hey, now,” he says, while Sid makes an offended noise in his pocket. Retiring took a lot of very serious thought, mostly adding up to the fact that if he can't keep his own girlfriend from going over to the dark side he has no business protecting a city. Not that he's going to tell her that. “That was uncalled-for.”

“It was perfectly called for. Just because you stopped protecting the city doesn't mean people stopped attacking it. Why do you think I transferred precincts?” She turns away and sighs. “It was a long shot anyway. I suppose I'll have to find some other way to get Richard Royal and his gang.”

There's a tiny despairing noise from Galavant's pocket, as Galavant turns to face her more fully. “What was that about Richard Royal? Is his gang involved in this somehow?”

“Did I fail to mention that? Shame on me.” Galavant is certainly smart enough to know that he's being manipulated, but, well. It's Richard. He's been out of the city for the past year, ever since Galavant's epic defeat. If he's back in Valencia … “I suppose it doesn't change your answer, though. You'd rather return to your beer and your couch, no doubt. Do you still have your old sidekick's number? He might be willing to help me out.”

Sid is saying something very emphatic in Galavant's pocket, either offering his services or telling Galavant that taking up a revenge vendetta when he's out of practice isn't going to do any good. Sid always makes such excellent points. “There's no need for that, I think. I may be retired, but I know more about Royal's gang than anyone else in this city, police included.”

“So you'll help?”

“I'll think about it. Detective ...”

“Isabella Valens, if we're going to be working together, Mr. Knight. Shall I trust that you'll be doing some investigations and that you won't make me wait more than an hour the next time I send up your signal?”

“I'll consider it. Good night, Detective Valens.”

“Only do it if you're going to be an asset, Mr. Knight,” she calls when he moves to the edge of the roof to make his exit.

That's too good an exit line for her. Galavant won't have it. “Believe me, rookie, I'm more asset than you can handle,” he says, and flies off into the night.

He's pretty sure he hears her shout something about sexual harassment into the dark behind him, but Galavant has definitely won this round.

*

**THE NIGHT KNIGHT'S SIGNAL FLIES AGAIN** , blares a headline, with a very good picture of the hologram over the precinct and then a lot of speculation on what must be going on in the city to call him out of retirement.

“You know this is a terrible idea,” says Sid, who has been sulking about not getting to talk to Detective Isabella himself ever since Galavant landed back in their apartment last night. “You're out of shape, you're out of touch, and you are planning to take on your nemesis and try to win Madalena back to the side of good. That is your plan, right?”

“I'm thrilled you grasped it so quickly.”

“Right, just … just checking.” Sid sighs. “So I'm thinking maybe we should go to the gym later. Just as an idea.”

Agreeing is an admission, and Galavant makes a point of never making those, but it's actually a very good idea. “I suppose it's been a while since I was at a punching bag. It couldn't hurt. And your hand-to-hand has fallen by the wayside, no doubt.”

“I still train twice a week.”

“Fallen by the wayside,” Galavant says again, and slings his arm around Sid's shoulders. “Come on, then, let's go, plenty to do if we're going to figure out where Richard and Madalena are and stop them from stealing the Jewel of Valencia and win Madalena back to our merry band of vigilantes.”

“Sounds like a very reasonable to-do list for a Thursday morning,” says Sid with a sigh, and wanders away to pack his gym bag.

*

The next time Galavant meets Isabella Valens, he's rescuing her from a few muggers she's attempting to arrest.

“I had this!” she snaps as Sid, who did a really clever move with her dropped baton and dropped one of her assailants almost as soon as he was his proper size, ties everyone up. “Also, where the hell did he come from?”

“I was in his pocket,” says Sid, jogging over. “Hello. You're Detective Valens, sorry we couldn't be introduced last time. I never really decided on a name, since I wasn't a big figure in the press or anything. I think one of the papers called me the Night Squire at some point? I suppose that's catchy enough.”

“Oh my God, there are two of you.” She crosses her arms and frowns at the pile of criminals. “And you rendered them all unconscious, I can't actually arrest them until I've read them their rights, so now we have to wait.”

“We can talk business.” Galavant prods one of the wrongdoers with his boot. He lets out a sad little moan. “Have you heard anything more about Richard Royal's gang since we spoke?”

“Not much. Just that even though they were exclusively a non-superpowered organization before their hiatus, they seem to have someone with powers on their side now. Although there have always been rumors about his right hand man, and whether he's got some manner of superstrength.”

He really does. Galavant is the strongest superhero in the city in the sense that he's got the most powers that are useful enough in combat, but Gareth is the strongest in the sense that he put Galavant through a wall at the wedding. It was sort of dreadful. “Rumors confirmed, though I'm more interested in this new super. Any word about the powers?”

“Ah.” She coughs delicately, and his heart sinks. That is the kind of cough that only heralds bad news. “Invisibility and super speed? But there's no evidence that the super using them isn't using them under duress or ...”

Oh God, she's being kind. Galavant may never live it down. “These gentlemen aren't part of the gang?”

“No, they're a different group that's been mugging citizens over the past few months.” She grunts. “I suppose I should thank you. I was only expecting to get one or two of them arrested tonight, not the bulk of the crew.” One of them groans and blinks awake. Galavant really is losing his touch. Time was it took more than five minutes to get over one of his punches. “Oh good. I've got it from here, gentlemen, as there's backup coming to fit them all into a van. Perhaps the two of you could meet me at the Rooftop Cafe on, say, Thursday night? I'll get you up to date with our current case files on the Royals.”

“We'll be there,” says Sid, and steps on Galavant's foot. Not that Galavant was going to say anything mysterious that might leave her feeling a little less smug. Sid really has no faith in him. “About ten?”

“Perfect.” She puts her laser gaze on the goon who woke up. “You. You are under arrest on suspicion of assault and battery, theft of personal property, resisting arrest ...”

Sid shrinks while she talks and hops into Galavant's palm. Galavant puts him in his pocket and flies away.

*

Galavant hasn't been in the Rooftop Cafe since he retired. It's the home of half of Valencia's night life, legal and illegal, and as a result the proprietor, a skinny man with a fondness for odd hats and the improbable name of Vincenzo, has a big sign hung on the door painted with the word “TRUCE” and a smiley face. It's a rare night when someone in a costume, or at the very least a ski mask, doesn't walk through the door, and Galavant isn't the only flying customer. There's a reason it's on the top floor of a building with rooftop access for seating and fly-through ordering.

When he lands on the roof two minutes past ten on Thursday night (he would have been later, but Sid kept on _looking_ at him), Detective Valens is sitting in the rooftop seating with her legs crossed and a stack of papers in front of her. “You're late,” she says when he lands in front of her and puts Sid on a chair so he can get back to normal size.

“There is no such thing as being late when the time given was 'about ten.' Be more specific next time and then you can complain if I'm late. Mind if I order some snacks?”

“Mozzarella sticks and fries on the way, as well as some nachos. I thought that would suffice for a late-night snack.”

Sid, whose mask is askew, beams at her. “That's so nice of you! Isn't it nice of her?”

“Very nice. It takes more than nachos to bribe me, Detective Valens.”

She makes a face like she's thinking about something very hard. “I suppose if we're going to work together, you might call me Isabella. And I should call you ...”

“Exactly what the newspapers call us,” says Galavant, with his most winning smile. “You understand. Secrecy is one of the things we use to keep ourselves safe, in this very uncertain world, and I would hate to lose that, even with an ally.”

“Perhaps eventually,” Sid tempers, because he's much too soft-hearted. “Now, Isabella, what do you have for us?”

It turns out, remarkably, to be a productive night. Galavant eats far too many bar snacks, Gareth comes in at one point for take-out and there's a very awkward interlude while he glares and all of them avoid eye contact, Vincenzo's girlfriend (a CSI tech from Isabella's precinct, judging from their cheerful greeting) comes in and there is quite a lot of kissing, and Galavant gets briefed on Richard and Madalena's presence in the city and their likely play for the Jewel of Valencia. Isabella never stops looking thoroughly unimpressed with Galavant, though she warms quickly to Sid (Galavant can't really complain about that. Sid is Sid, after all), but he doesn't really care. He's not in this to help her so much as he is to see if there's any hope whatsoever for Madalena.

She hands them both a business card at the end of the night. “Here, you can call me if you want to set up another meeting. Call me if you're making a play for them, so there can be a police presence to mop of your mess, and I would prefer to be tagged in on it to a larger extent than that. I can hold my own in a fight.” She frowns at Galavant. “Possibly better than you.”

“I'm sorry, who was the one who helped you with those muggers the other night?”

“Mm, yes, and how bad was the stitch in your side after that?”

Galavant decides to ignore that and be the bigger person. He stands up instead, and gestures for Sid to do the same. “We'll be in touch.”

When he starts rummaging around for the cash he keeps in his utility belt, Isabella shakes her head. “Don't bother. I'll bill it to the precinct as a business meeting. We're allowed to feed consultants, especially ones we can't exactly transfer payment to.”

“I should have eaten more nachos, then,” says Galavant. “Good night, Detective Isabella.”

“Don't make any trouble,” she says, and picks up her folders to walk away.

Sid, instead of letting him scramble for another exit line, starts shrinking so Galavant has to scoop him up and get him stowed away, and by the time he's finished with that, Isabella has disappeared into the building.

“She is far too willing to read us in on this case considering it's clear she thinks I'm incompetent,” he observes on the way home. “We'll have to keep an eye on things.”

Sid makes an agreeable noise in his pocket.

*

“Gal. I was hoping you would come home before Sid.”

Galavant, on his way through the door from the gym, drops his bag on the floor at the sound of Madalena's voice. When he looks, she's sitting on his couch, prim and proper and wearing very tight black pants, since apparently she has embraced that particular element of evil. There are also diamonds, which is really just rubbing it in. “Come to beg me to take you back? That would certainly make my life easier.”

“Don't be silly, Gal. Just came to catch up. Check in on you. Poor thing, you _have_ had it rather tough.” Her speaking look encompasses the entirety of his and Sid's bachelor pad, which, yes, could use some cleaning and organizing, though Sid does his best and Galavant doesn't leave beer bottles around after Sid almost got trapped in one. “No wonder you were in retirement.”

“More of a hiatus, really.”

“Mm.” She stands up and strolls in his direction. “You really shouldn't worry about Richard, if that's what's got you drinking protein shakes instead of beer again. He's actually rather useless up close. Just rich. That really helps, you know.”

Galavant stares at her. “I _dated_ you.”

“Oh, sweetie. _I_ dated _you_.”

Those sentences are the same thing, but somehow Madalena is smirking like she's won and Galavant feels as though she has. “Also, you married him, should you be insulting him like that?”

“If I can't insult my husband, who can I insult? Anyway, things were much easier when you were retired. We aren't hurting anyone, Gal, just making a bit of money. I know this new detective of yours is ...” She wrinkles her nose. “Cute. But don't let yourself get distracted.”

Galavant doesn't even know where to start with how wrong everything about that is. Detective Isabella may in fact be cute, but that has nothing to do with his involvement in the case. “We'll see about that.” It isn't a very satisfying response, but it's the best he can do.

Madalena opens her mouth, but her phone chirps and she looks at it and sighs. “It seems I'm needed elsewhere, and anyway, your sidekick will probably be back soon. Ta, darling. Remember what I said.”

He's got a witty retort, he really does this time, but she superspeeds off before he can get it out. That, Galavant decides, is cheating.

*

Detective Isabella finds him at the Rooftop Cafe that night, sits down next to him at the bar, and gives him a look full of such comprehensive judgment that he puts down his mug without finishing the dregs of it. “Si—the Squire called me and said he was worried about you.”

Of course Sid told her his secret identity already. He's a trusting fellow. And he'd better hope for both their sakes that Isabella has a code of honor, because once she knows who Sid is, it won't be hard to draw the line to Galavant. “Now, that is silly. It is … it is blatantly silly. No one needs to worry about me. I am the Knight. I am the _Night_.”

“You are the Night Knight, yes, I had somehow figured that one out.” She wrinkles her nose. “One of these days I will figure out how to charge you for flying while drunk. Which, by the way, leads me to believe that perhaps there's reason for your friend to be worried.”

Galavant will never actually mention it, but he likes it that Isabella has taken to calling Sid his friend instead of his sidekick. Madalena never quite got that one. “Unpleasant visit from an ex.”

“Ah. A superpowered ex, perchance?”

“Possibly.” He makes a face. “Definitely.”

“The one who left you to elope with Richard Royal?”

“Rub it in, why don't you?”

“Well, then. It's relevant to the case. You'd better tell me all about it.” She looks at the sky, and then makes a face. “I'll buy you another drink if you'll talk and if you'll promise to let the Squire see you home safely after I text him and he comes.”

“You are my very favorite police detective,” he informs her, and waves Chef down to ask for another beer before launching into the story of Madalena's visit.

By the time he's finished, with a brief tangent about how his apartment really isn't that messy no matter what anyone says, Isabella has an unhappy pinch-lipped expression on her face. “Well, that's anything but ideal, though there's some good news to be found as well. If she's trying to talk you out of interfering, it means that whatever their plan is, they think you can stop it.” He perks up, only for her to dash his incipient good mood quite thoroughly by adding “Clearly she doesn't know how out of shape you are.”

“I have been training a lot,” he says, reproachful.

“He keeps doing push-ups on the living room floor,” says Sid, sliding into the bar stool on Galavant's other side, attempting to have some sort of conversation through grimaces with Isabella that might work better if he weren't wearing a mask.

“And I suppose you help by sitting on his back,” Isabella says at last, rolling her eyes and signaling Chef for another round for all three of them. Really, the Valencia PD is most generous.

“Sometimes!” says Sid with cheerful unconcern. “Start small and get bigger, you know, it's helpful for training.”

Isabella looks between them and shakes her head. “I will never understand superheroes. Now, the two of you ought to have this drink and get home. Don't let him do any dangerous flying tricks, Squire, or I will book him for anything I can possibly think of. He's a danger to himself.”

“Don't I know it,” says Sid, insultingly, and changes the conversation to ask about Madalena.

*

There's a certain thrill in stakeouts.

Perhaps it's all the Boy's Own Adventure stories he read as a child, before the onset of superpowers made them seem rather tame, or perhaps it's that stakeouts are basically eavesdropping on the city's gossip with justice as a motivation. Either way, he delights in lurking on a rooftop with surveillance equipment, a cup of cocoa, and Sid sitting next to him humming intermittently, and it's rather nice to get to do it again.

Of course, there's also the problem of Isabella sitting next to him, wearing dark clothes and peering at Richard's warehouse through the binoculars she has been hogging all night. “Is there anything interesting happening yet?”

“Remind me never to go on a road trip with you.”

“He's awful,” Sid agrees. The traitor. Isabella showed up with several thermoses of cocoa and blankets and excellent electronic bugs Sid installed with the help of a remote control helicopter she controlled and Sid has thereafter been entirely on her side. “He hogs the music and he doesn't like taking the scenic route.”

“That's because I am generally trying to get somewhere and the scenic route takes at least twice as long.” He looks at Isabella. “And besides, when I let him drive he stays at least five miles under the speed limit at all times.”

She puts the binoculars down long enough to look between them, incredulous. “You two would tell me if you were married, right? It may not be precisely relevant to the mission, but it's also the sort of thing you tell a new acquaintance, especially since you're a superhero team so it's not like it would expose either of you.”

“We are not married. We have never been married. We never even thought about it.”

“Actually, there was that one time with the rum and the casino and the—”

“We have never been married,” Galavant reiterates, because no one needs to hear that story. He prefers not to recall it himself, especially since he was still together with Madalena at that point. Actually, on further consideration, perhaps he should have drunkenly married Sid after all.

Isabella keeps looking at them for a few seconds and then sighs. “Very well, if you say so.” She picks up her binoculars again and makes an interested noise. “Squire, tune in to what they're saying over there, will you? It's Royal himself, as well as his right-hand man.”

Galavant hates Richard Royal more than he hates anyone in this world, but he could kiss him right now for interrupting the awkward conversation about marriage or lack thereof. Sid is a lovely person and Galavant is definitely never marrying him.

“They're talking about their plan to steal the Jewel of Valencia!” whispers Sid, all excitement.

Isabella grins. “Bingo,” she crows, and they manage not to talk about anyone marrying anyone else for the rest of the night.

*

As it turns out, their big plan to steal the Jewel of Valencia from the Valencian Museum of Natural History, where it's on display with other local gemstones, mostly relies on Madalena's superpowers and a few thieves' tools that anyone with respectable underworld connections can get in under twenty-four hours.

Really, it's such an easy plan that Galavant isn't sure why they haven't done it already and skedaddled right back out of town.

“I don't like this,” he says on the night of the heist, frowning at Isabella, who looks even more frazzled than he feels. She's been increasingly twitchy in their meetings over the past few days while they prepared to apprehend Madalena and Richard and the whole gang. “And clearly you don't like this either. Scale of one to ten, how important is this jewel?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Oh, I don't know, twenty-three? Pride of the city, put Valencia on the map, mythical source of all superpowers in the city, you know the stories. Nobody wants it stolen!”

“Yes, but all my instincts are screaming that this is a trap. You can't tell me your instincts do not tell you this is a trap. Can't we just move the jewel or something?”

“That seems like a really good idea,” says Sid, who is six inches tall and doing something with the security system around the jewel. “I don't know why that wasn't Plan A.”

Isabella sighs at them both. “Moving it would preserve the jewel, but it also would give us no chance to actually catch them, which we would like to do. We have plenty of backup, even if it's a trap we'll be fine.” And she looks unhappy again. Galavant really doesn't like this.

“Sid, back me up here. This is definitely a trap, right?”

Sid hops onto the floor and goes back to his proper size. “I mean, statistically, I would not be shocked. Isabella, are you sure we shouldn't have a few more failsafes?”

She gets the sort of look on her face that action heroes in movies start pulling out right before they say things like “This is just how things have to be.” “This is just how things have to be.”

Galavant makes a mental note to check and see if he is developing clairvoyance along with his other superpowers. “You are not inspiring confidence right now.”

“ _You're_ not inspiring confidence right now,” says a voice from the shadows, and then continues “Oh, damn it, Gareth, you've really got to stop me before I waste my entrance lines like that.”

Richard. Within a second, Galavant and Sid are in fighting stances, and Isabella is … not. Galavant gives her a puzzled look as Richard and Gareth and Madalena come lurking out of the shadows. They should not have made it past security without any alarms going off, especially considering Isabella arranged extra security and backup tonight. Or at least said she did. Galavant has a really bad feeling about this. “Just back off, Richard, and we can settle this peacefully.”

“See, his are much better than mine, I need to work on that.”

“Richard,” Madalena hisses, and elbows him in the side. Galavant knows from experience that she has very sharp elbows.

“Right, right.” He rubs his hands together. “Well, well, well, Detective Valens. We meet again. I think I can take things from here, and you'll find that your parents are quite safe.” He looks at Gareth, who is still looming. “I still think it would have been better if I'd been able to start with that.”

Galavant ignores that. Richard can monologue indefinitely. He has no idea how Madalena listens to it. Instead, he turns to Isabella, who is looking rather wretched, as she should if she betrayed them. Sid, when he glances in that direction, is looking reproachful as well. “Isabella, you didn't,” says Galavant.

“He had my parents kidnapped! What was I supposed to do?”

“Tell me they were kidnapped so we could have rescued them before rescuing the jewel!”

Isabella opens her mouth to shoot something back and then shuts it and looks more miserable. “I can't say I thought of that.”

“Oh, God,” says Madalena. “Can I at least take the jewel before you start talking about how betrayed you're feeling?”

“So, just to get us all on the same page here, the plan was to let Richard and Gareth murder me and Madalena steal the jewel? Like, that was the plan?” Galavant asks Isabella. She makes a sad sort of shrug. He could almost feel sorry for her, if she weren't a genius traitor who dragged him out of retirement to hand him over to his ex-girlfriend's husband.

“Her parents were in danger, you can't really blame her. He probably would have let them go if you hadn't answered the beacon after a few nights, so she probably didn't expect to actually have to betray you,” Sid points out, because he's far too nice. He's glaring at Isabella, anyway, though Sid's glares don't really strike fear into anyone's heart.

“I had a better plan than just letting you get killed,” she says, indignantly but without a lot of commitment, and then looks at Richard. “My parents are free.” He rolls his eyes and makes an agreeable sort of noise. “You are one hundred percent committed to that.”

“Yes, yes, they'll be somewhere safe by now, no doubt, you should run off and check on them.”

Galavant begins to have a suspicion at the same time as Gareth, it seems, because they both step forward at once, just as Isabella slides right back into looking smug, which is a much better look for her than tortured and guilty. Even if she deserves the torture and the guilt. “Well, if my parents are safe, I'm free to tell you three that you are under arrest and bound by law to submit yourselves to justice.”

Madalena lets out the same little frustrated scream she does when certain nameless people forget to put the cap on the toothpaste and turns to Richard. “You didn't see that coming? Tell me you didn't see that coming.”

“Come on, no way they can stop us right now,” says Gareth, and smashes the glass the jewel is being held behind, setting off all manner of alarms.

Galavant leaps and tackles Madalena the second he sees the hint that she's going to superspeed over and grab the jewel. They've drilled together enough times that he knows all her moves, including going invisible to try to trick him—of course, though, she knows all his moves as well, possibly better than he does after a year of not drilling at all, so they end up rolling around on the floor a lot in the less fun way.

Isabella, when he manages to get a good look at her, seems to be attempting to put handcuffs on Richard while he attempts to slap her hands away. At least he doesn't have superpowers so she isn't in too much danger unless Gareth gets to her. Which, considering Galavant isn't fighting Gareth at the moment, seems unfortunately likely.

When he manages to look, though, Gareth is attempting to swat something around his head, and it doesn't take much effort to connect the dots to Sid, though goodness knows how he's on Gareth's head, considering he can't fly. Or what his plan is. Whatever it is, though, it seems to have Gareth sufficiently distracted, so Galavant goes back to attempting to get Madalena incapacitated enough to allow Isabella to arrest her.

“I have been missing having you on top of me,” Madalena says with remarkable cheer, and almost manages to flip him off her when he freezes in surprise.

“That's cheating.” He considers that as he pulls her hair like they're in a playground fight. The alarms are still going off overhead. Hopefully the Valencia PD is on its way even if Isabella was a traitor and didn't get them the backup she promised. “In both senses, actually.”

Across the room, Isabella lets out a triumphant cry and handcuffs Richard to a rail while he slumps next to it, looking dejected. Sid, a bit closer, seems to be resorting to his last-resort tactic, which is shrinking the person he's fighting against. He's going to be exhausted and headachey and grouchy for days, but it's likely the only way to defeat Gareth at the moment, especially considering what a fight Madalena is putting up. Gareth is shouting rather a lot, but Sid seems to have things well in hand. Good for Sid.

Isabella comes trotting over Galavant's way, and Madalena takes advantage of his distraction to attempt to stab him with a shard of glass, which really isn't sporting at all. He knocks it away and cuts his hand in the process, which he's quite sure will hurt very badly later, and Isabella jumps on top of both of them, so there's a very uncomfortable Madalena sandwich when the pile of them tips over.

“This is not a threesome I was ever hoping to have,” Galavant grunts, and manages to get Madalena pinned. Gareth is still shouting, though it's getting rather shrill.

Isabella raises her eyebrows at him across Madalena's invisible shoulder, somehow managing to get her invisible wrists into anti-super cuffs. “What sort of threesome were you hoping to have, out of curiosity? You're under arrest, by the way, Madalena Royal.”

“Oh my God,” says Madalena despairingly, abruptly visible and staring at the ceiling.

Sid comes over, his regular size, Gareth held in the cage of his hands while he grimaces occasionally, presumably because Gareth still has super strength even when he's tiny. “Are you about done over here?” he asks. “Only, I think the police are almost here, and we might want to figure out looking a little more heroic than this.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. I always look heroic,” says Galavant, but he sits up and brushes some of the dust and glass off his costume. Nothing wrong with wanting to look his best, after all.

*

“I can't decide if I'm retired again or not,” Galavant says a few nights later, mending his costume in his and Sid's living room. “I mean, defeating my nemeses is probably a good note to go out on, but I also kind of missed it, I have to admit.”

“I think we should keep going,” says Sid, who's been staring out the window, and then grins and turns around to face him. “And clearly Isabella agrees, because she just sent the signal up again. What do you say? Want to go see what wrongs need righting tonight?”

Galavant goes over to the window and grins at the sword in the sky, all lit up. It's nice to see it. “Think she'll betray us again?”

“No. Maybe we can even convince her to buy us some dinner at the Rooftop Cafe again. So, are we going to put off retirement a little while longer?”

“What the hell?” Galavant goes back over to his costume and cuts the thread. The mending will hold for another night or so. “Let's suit up and head over.”

Isabella is waiting on the police station roof when they get there, tapping her foot. “There you two are. Bank robbery in progress, we've got to work on your response time. Want to go be heroes?”

Galavant grins. “I think that can be arranged. And perhaps we can go out for breakfast afterward and you can pay to apologize for betraying us terribly?”

For a second, she looks like she's going to object to that, but in the end she just rolls her eyes and turns the beacon off. “I suppose I could spring for breakfast if you consider telling me your actual name. I really can't keep calling you the Night Knight if I'm going to be paying for your pancakes.”

“He prefers waffles,” Sid calls from Galavant's pocket.

Galavant gives her his best smile. “I think that's fair. The name's Galavant, Detective, and I think we have a robbery to stop. Shall we?”

She takes a set of car keys out of her pocket and waves them at him. “Bet I'll beat you there. Hortensia National, on fifth.”

He launches into the air. It's looking much better now that he's more in practice and doesn't have to get a running start. “I'll have them ready for cuffing by the time you get there, don't worry,” he says, and takes off flying before she can get a response in.

There's really nothing more satisfying than getting a good exit line in, he decides, and flies a little faster when the siren starts up behind him.


End file.
